Linc Me Against The Sink
by NurseLintu
Summary: Yes. Shameless filth. Nothing else. Don't like? Don't read. Simple. I just want to violate him. I know I'm not the only one. May stick up a couple more oneshots. If the mood hits. Enjoy. Yet more smut.
1. Chapter 1

**Just a short dirty one. Me and my dirty mind. I bet I'm not the only one who thinks it when I see that biiiig, strong frame. Wink wink Enjoy ;)**

He's so _big_. I bite my lip as I watch him from the other side of the street. He's looking just about as shifty as they come, but with his past, I can hardly blame him. I've seen enough photos of him – mostly mugshots, which make him look like a thug – but the reality of him is far superior. Sexier.

His hair has grown out a fair bit since the days of the Fox River Escape, and he has allowed a slight stubble to grow on his cheeks and chin, and his upper lip looks slightly bristly. The top few buttons of his shirt are undone, and I can see a broad, toned, smooth chest peeking out at me. His eyes are hidden behind shades, and I can't actually tell where he is looking.

"What you lookin' at?" My friend Carolina elbows me in the ribs, and I scowl back at her.

"Nothin'." I wait until she's stopped ogling across the road trying to spot my prey before I sneak another peek.

"Come on, Louisiana," Yasmin links her arm through mine and begins to tow me away.

I cast one last, desperate look over my shoulder at Lincoln Burrows, and this time I see his head move, and if I'm not mistaken, he's looking straight at me.

We maintain what I believe to be eye contact for a few seconds before I am tugged to my left, and to avoid the embarrassment of winding up sprawled on my ass in the middle of the street, I turn back to look where I'm going and hop up the small step just in time.

My heart sinks as we meander through the throng of high, drunk and otherwise completely wasted people, and I feel hands reaching from left, right and center to grope at various parts of my anatomy. I ask myself once again why I allowed my friends to convince me in to going out tonight. Normally on a Saturday night, I would be sitting at home alone with a glass of wine and a jolly good book. I'm beginning to wish that was where I was now. I get a glass of something vaguely toxic looking pushed in to my hand, and the passing hand beckons me for money. It's my round. I work a shitty job, as a receptionist, but the pay isn't too shoddy. Silver linings and all that. I hand over two twenty dollar bills and don't hold out much hope for change. Trina likes to tip the bar tenders. Especially if she thinks it will get her a lay at the end of the night. She's like a man in a woman's body, that one.

I sigh deeply and lean against the bar, on the outer edge of my cluster of friends, and sip the luminous cocktail through the ridiculously small straw. It tastes as vicious as it looks, and I wince at the extreme bitter sweetness, take a deep breath and draw in a few more mouthfuls.

"Wanna go dance?" Trina winks at the bar tender – who gives her an interested look back – and nods towards the dance floor.

"Really, intensely no." I reply.

"Oh come _on_." Carolina joins in the targeted bullying, then Yasmin and Selina back the first two up.

I roll my eyes in an exaggerated manner, then hold up my index finger. "_After_ I finish my drink."

It turns out that was a fantastic idea. Whatever was in the drink has loosened me up a great deal, and I am actually enjoying gyrating around on the dance floor with my friends.

Trina and I are far closer than we really need to be, and she is making use of me as a performance pole, and I know it's a show for the pretty boy bartender. He's definitely paying attention. As are the majority of the male population of the club. The girls are giving disgusted or envious looks, and looking at Trina, I can completely understand why. She is one of those too-stunning-to-be-fair girls, and if I swung that way, _I'd tap that_.

We finish our little show a few minutes later, and wrap ourselves around one another, with an affectionate peck on the cheek. It's that moment that I lock eyes with Lincoln. I pull away from Trina, a little faster than I mean to, and she gives me a questioning look, but I smile, and she smiles back.

Then I return my attention to the big, handsome man leaning against the end of the bar, shades atop his head, forearm across the bar, eyes on me. I freeze, unable to move, unable to even look away. I notice the slightest movement of his head; just raising his chin. I finally manage to look away, and before I know what's happening, I'm being towed away to the ladies room, but I don't actually need to go. I don't think I do, anyway. I might be a bit beyond actually knowing what I want or need. Besides the obvious.

The girls are squealing at one another when I get in to the rest room behind them.

I am dazed for a long moment, stupid. I pick out the odd word here and there, but don't really pay attention until I hear my affectionate nickname spoken.

"Lou?" Carolina coos from next to me. Her dark eyes lock on to mine, and she raises a concerned hand to my arm. "Are you okay?"

I nod vigorously. "It's Saturday night, babe. I'm just tired."

Her face splits in to a grin, and she gives me a quick bear hug. "So long as you're having fun."

"Absolutely." I grin back, and hope that's her off my case. She's the last person you want knowing you have your eyes on someone, because she is exactly the type of person to prance up to them and yell it in their ear in the most uncouth fashion, and basically destroy any hope you might have had of getting to know them.

Carolina dashes in to one of the cubicles on her own, and Trina heads straight for the mirror. She pulls out her emergency make up and starts applying it. I stand just beside the door, staring. I want to get back out there before Yummy Burrows disappears in to the night for good.

The girls take their time fussing and obsessing over their hair and faces. I decide it's best not to even look. I have never been more glad to get out of a rest room as I am ten minutes later.

As I enter the room, I try to keep my eyes on the floor, act casual and cool, but they betray me and race around the room, searching.

Thank fuck.

He's still here. He's moved to a corner booth with a small crowd of equally thuggish looking men. He's laughing freely at something one of the bald thugs has just whispered in his ear, and I can't help but wonder if they're maybe flirting. My heart sinks a little at the idea, but I dismiss it and turn back to my friends, who are hogging most of the bar again, flashing cleavage for attention. I glance down and scoff at myself. No cleavage flashing for me. I'm wearing the female version of a wife beater. And black leggings. Figure hugging, perhaps, but hardly on-the-pull material. Never mind.

Another lethal drink is shoved in to my hand, and I decide not to bother looking too hard at it, and I just put the straw to my lips and down as much of it as I can manage in one go. I notice that Lincoln is holding a tumbler of whiskey. Or something similar. On the rocks. That's in one hand. Next to the other, resting on the table, is a pint. Double man points. My eyes lift to his, and my blood runs cold. He's watching me. _Fuck_.

I avert my eyes quickly and follow my clan to another booth, where they sit and huddle together, yelling in each other's ears over the music and giggling loudly. I try to join in, but I'm too distracted to come up with much.

Trina leans towards me and rests a hand on my thigh. "You okay babe?"

I nod. "Yeah. Yeah. Just tired." I smile. I think I'm believed.

"Fancy another dance after this round?"

I really, really do. I nod. "Sure."

Trina's face splits in to a grin, and she winks at the bartender who is already looking in her direction. He smirks and winks back. She is definitely getting laid tonight.

My eyes steal back to Linc, and as if sensing me, his eyes meet mine. I bite my lip and look away sharply. I finish my drink in a few long pulls and fight the urge to drop my head to the table. Whatever it is, I shouldn't be drinking it quickly. Trina is tugging on my arm, dragging me to the dance floor, and I suddenly feel too tipsy to put up any resistance.

We put on another show for the spectators, and this time there is more interest. Trina's bartender looks positively hysterical, clearly wishing his shift ended sooner. I catch myself with my hands on Trina's ass, my lips on her neck, and I suddenly realize that _yeah, I could totally swing that way._ The way she's rotating her hips, and the way her breasts are pushing against me. The skin of her neck is smooth, much smoother than a man's, and warm. Trina cranes her neck and looks in to my eyes. I know exactly what she's asking, and I don't hesitate. Our lips brush against one another, and I am totally lost in the sensation. It's Trina who parts her lips and takes my bottom lip between hers. A few moments later, she breaks the kiss, and turns her back to me. My lips gravitate back to her neck, and I've totally lost track of my hands. She's using me as a dancing pole again, and I really don't mind. She turns me round, and my eyes hone in on Lincoln, who is watching the show with blatant appreciation. My eyes rake down his body, then back up again, and the corners of his lips quirk up in to a smile. His eyes give me the same treatment, and I toss my head back on to Trina's shoulder. Her hands are on my hips, and they slide down the fronts of my thighs and back up again.

Lincoln stands, but before I get a chance to see where he's headed, Trina spins me round again, and this time, her back is to my front. My arms circle her waist, and I gasp as I feel someone brush past behind me, a hand linger on my hip. I glance to my right, and watch Linc as the crowd parts around him, and he glances back at me over his shoulder.

Trina turns to face me again, and she smiles at me. "I think that con likes you."

"He was set up." I defend, but Trina laughs softly. She's not being nasty.

"I know babe." Her lips brush against mine again. "You know. If the mood ever hits..." She kisses me gently, and I understand.

"For sure," I answer.

"Drink?"

I smile. "Maybe one more."

It's at the bar that Linc turns up again. I order my drink and rummage in my purse for a note.

A huge arm reaches past me and holds out a note to the bar tender. "It's on me." And that voice sends all the right signals to all the right places. I can feel his body against mine. "And a refill, please." He sets down the tumbler.

Spicy. He smells spicy. And pine fresh. I think that's it. It's intoxicating, anyway. I squirm around and he's close, and he's looking down in to my eyes. His eyes are burning and fierce. The eyes of a man who's seen more than his fair share of horrific things. This is a man who has sat in an electric chair, ready to die.

My drink is slid in to my hand, and I feel my cheeks flush as he continues to stare. I can't read his expression. It's solid and stoic. "Thank you."

He nods gently, and I'm aware of his fingers over mine around my drink.

I swallow. My mouth is bone dry. And he is gone. Leaving me, watching him retreat, my heart hammering in my chest, mouth and throat bone dry, and an uncomfortable heat between my legs.

"Definitely likes you." Trina whispers in my ear.

"Fuck off." I snap. We return to our table and settle back in to conversation about work and sex. I zone out.

"I need a smoke." Carolina complains, and somehow, that means we all have to finish up our drinks and tag along.


	2. Chapter 2

The alley out back has several dumpsters dotted along the wall, and the people hanging around in there already leave plenty to be desired.

We huddle together, and I suddenly, really, really wish Carolina didn't smoke.

The looks coming from a crowd of tight-jeans-and-leather clad guys from across the way look anything but friendly. My skin begins to prickle and crawl as they start inching closer to us. Carolina and the other two are all chattering and seem completely oblivious. Trina looks at me, then glances towards the men, then back at the door. I nod.

"Girls, we should go in." I whisper.

"I've only just started my cigarette."

"We _need_ to go in, Car," Trina hisses, frantically trying to discreetly signal towards the approaching howler monkeys. It doesn't work.

Carolina continues to whine.

"_Now_." But I'm too late. The men have managed to close in on us, and they are leering, the five of us trapped between them and the wall.

"G'd evening ladies." The ring leader has a similar Southern accent to mine, and I cringe at how sleazy it sounds. "You're all lookin' mighty fine tonight."

Carolina finally clicks on, far too late, and she spins on her heels to face the interlopers. "We're not interested."

I close my eyes and internally face palm. Carolina is anything but smooth when it comes to sticky situations. Straight shooting comes in useful sometimes. Not now.

I grin and twirl my hair around my finger. "'Scuse my friend," I layer on my accent stronger than usual. Hopefully if they think we're simple, they'll lose interest. Either that, or it'll have the total opposite effect. "She's got a fiance waitin' at home for her." My heart is thundering in my chest again as I step forward. "We's not really lookin' tonight, if you know what I mean? Just out to relax after a long hard week in work."

The ring leader steps up closer to me and eyes me down and up. My skin crawls. "I know a fine way to relax, back at my place, baby doll."

I chew my lip and step away from him. "I need to be getting' home to my Momma."

"Oh, your Momma won't mind you being late, baby doll." And before I can react, his hand is in my hair, and his lips are on mine, and his spare hand is snaking around to my backside to have a good grope.

"Hey!" The voice is loud, and it frightens me half to death, but the sleaze bag tears away from me and jumps back at the sound, and Trina grabs me and pulls me back to her.

Lincoln Burrows looms in the door way of the club, his figure almost filling the space, and his face is set in that hard, no nonsense mask I remember seeing on his mug shots when he and the Fox River 8 were at large. He steps out of the door jamb and looks to me quickly, before looking back to the crew of creeps. "What's going on out here?" He advances on the smaller men, and they all shrink back in to the shadows.

"Nothin' at all, boss," The ringleader answers, and I get the feeling he doesn't know who he's talking to as Lincoln approaches him and glares down at him.

"You better pray that's the truth." I hear him growl, but it's quiet. He turns to us, and his eyes fix on Carolina as she steps forward.

"They were being inappropriate. Kayla didn't want him to kiss her."

Lincoln's eyes cast to me, then in one fell swoop, he spins and sends his fist in to the ringleader's face with a satisfying crunch.

The ringleader falls the floor with the force, and clutches his nose, screaming abuse and profanities, and likely empty threats at Lincoln.

Linc turns back to us and points to the door. "Go inside."

We obey. I won't admit the heated sensation I suffer in response to his commanding tone. Trina and I split off to the rest room so I can wash my hands and face.

"Are you okay, babe?" Trina's hand is laid on my back affectionately.

I nod. "Sure, sugar. Just needed to freshen up."

"Do you want another drink?"

I smile. "Please."

She nods and pecks me on the cheek. "I'll go fetch. Meet you back at the table."

"Sure." When she's gone, I check my reflection quickly. Scrape my hair back in to place and take a deep breath.

I walk out the rest room and straight in to Lincoln. "Shit. Sorry." I look up, and he looks down. We are barely an inch apart, and I am against the wall, but he doesn't back up.

"Are you okay?" His hand brushes past mine.

I nod. "Thank you. I'm fine. Uh," I swallow. "Thanks for what you did,"

There's something resembling a smile on his face now, and his eyes drop to my lips, and his tongue darts out to wet his lips before he speaks again. "You're welcome. I hope they didn't hurt you."

I shake my head. "Didn't have a chance."

He takes my hand in his and presses his lips to my knuckles. "Kayla?"

I nod.

"I'm Lincoln Burrows..."

"I know who you are." I bite my lip, and I see his eyes harden as I speak. "I'm sorry."

He drops my hand and looks away, nodding. He somehow manages to look small, defeated.

I take his hand back. "I know who you are." I don't know why I repeat it, but he looks back at me.

After a painfully long moment, he speaks again. "Would you like another drink?"

I remember Trina's promise to get me another drink, and I panic. "Sure," I speak before my brain catches up, then he is leading me back towards the bar.

I look around for the girls, and spot them crowding round a table with a few boys I don't recognize. I catch eye contact with Trina, and she winks and gives me thumbs up. I flush and shake my head at her.

"What would you like?" His voice is deep and husky, and the sound of it makes my insides flutter.

Trina's bartender is waiting, staring at me, and I can see a wicked glint in his eye. "This is on the house for your friend." He glances at Linc, sizing him up, and looks like he makes up his mind about something. He leans closer to whisper in to my ear. "I liked your little show earlier."

I smile. "Thanks. It was more Trina's show for you,"

Lincoln can't quite hear what we're talking about, but he glares at us both sternly.

I point at Trina's drink. "I'll have one of those, please." The bartender turns to make up the drink, and I turn to Lincoln. "I will be just a moment."

He nods, but he doesn't look convinced.

I scurry over to the table, as gracefully as I can, and set the drink down next to Trina. "From your boyfriend."

She grins, leaps up and drags me to the side. "So?"

"So, what?"

Trina passes my drink to me. "It hasn't been spiked. And _so_?" She leans closer. "_Lincoln Burrows_?" She whispers, as if it's the biggest news since sliced bread.

I chew my lip. "He wanted to know I was okay, is all. He's buyin' me a drink, then I'll come back."

Trina tuts at me. "Nuh-uh. No you're not."

I frown at her.

"It's been, what, six months? A year?"

I scowl at her. "Okay, Tri, no need to mock my celibacy."

"You just _have _to."

"I don't."

"You do."

I give up. I'm stubborn, but Trina puts me to shame.

"Go get him, Lou."

"Fuck you."

"Maybe later." Her eyes drift to the bartender, and she smiles. "You can join in if things don't pan out with you and Lincoln." She grins maniacally, and I roll my eyes.

"You're insatiable."

"I'm open." She defends.

"For business." I grin, and definitely deserve the half hearted thump on my arm.

"Go back to your man. He's been watching us this whole time."

I feel the heat in my cheeks again as I peek over my shoulder and, sure enough, he is staring straight at us. "In a while, baby doll." And I suddenly hate myself for using that term.

"Love you." Trina kisses me on the cheek again and winks.

"You too."

And she runs off, leaving me alone and defenseless. I look at the other girls, but they're all occupied with tongues down their throats and hands up their dresses. I realize I probably look a right sore thumb being the only one not wearing a dress, but worse things could happen. I take a deep breath and meander through the sweaty dancing bodies that have congregated back on the dance floor with the introduction of a new tune, back to Lincoln, who silently lifts both our drinks and carries them off to a quiet booth in the corner.

I sit awkwardly next to him, and decide to down most of my drink to help settle my nerves.

Lincoln looks at me, and I feel his thigh knock against mine as he slouches back in to the chair, allowing his legs to fall apart in a classic bloke pose.

I try not to let my eyes steal down to his crotch and wonder what he might be packing.

"Your friends?"

I shrug expansively, then finally leave my drink. "Just a night out to let off some steam."

He nods, and his eyes are practically burning holes in to my face. I return to my drink sipping. "Any plans?"

I shake my head. "I think those three will be going home with whatever they find, Trina has her eyes on the bartender." I smile to myself, thinking of how I've just accidentally sold off my friends as a bunch of whores. They're not _that_ bad. It's more of a once a month kind of deal, rather than every weekend.

"And you?"

I turn back to Lincoln, and his eyes are on my lips again as I speak. "I have no idea. Probably go home and watch a movie."

Lincoln sips his drink and looks at the table for a while.

I start my new drink, and shift in my seat. I feel his hand lay on my thigh, and I physically contract at the contact. In the good way.

"You don't have to be alone." That voice is rough and fiery, and I bite my lip again to regain control.

I don't quite know what to say back, so I smile.

Linc sips more of his drink, and his hand settles in mine.

A few minutes pass, and we stay quiet, but it's not too uncomfortable. I finish my drink, and Lincoln offers me another, but I recline. I'm already feeling a little more light headed than I usually allow myself to get.

Lincoln finishes his drink and stands up. He holds out his hand to me, and I take it, without thinking. I look to the girls, but they're all busy, and Trina flashes me thumbs up again. She can read my mind. _If_ the other girls ask, she'll tell them I'm safe. With an ex con. The thought almost frightens me, but moreover, it excites me.


	3. Chapter 3

The night air is comfortably cool, and Linc and I just walk, beside one another for a short while.

We turn in to a smaller street, and Linc turns to me. "Would you like to come inside?"

I nod dumbly, and put on a nice smile to cover my idiocy.

Lincoln turns to the door in front of him without further ado and opens it, offering for me to go through first.

Like a true gentleman, he takes my coat and hangs it up for me, and I kick off my shoes and push them to the side next to the rest of his shoes.

"Wine?" His breath ghosts over my ear and neck, and I shiver.

"Please."

"Red or white?"

"Red, please."

I feel his lips brush over my shoulder, and he guides me in to his living room, before going to fetch the wine.

We sit facing one another on the couch, and Lincoln stares in to my eyes as we talk. He has one hand on my knee.

"You dance for a living?"

I flush at the question, and he apologizes quickly. "No, no. It's okay. It's been a while. I did it for a while a long time ago."

Lincoln nods. "You're very... good."

"Thank you." I chew my lip. "I could show you a few more moves if..." I balk. Clearly I'm less sober than I had thought. I stutter. "Um... Shit. Sorry. I. Uh..."

Linc's lip are on mine. It's not heated, it's not rampant. Just a gentle press of lips, and I reciprocate freely.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." His eyes are on mine again, and we are only a couple inches apart.

Somehow, we end up in Lincoln's bedroom. He's sitting on a chair, and I am showing him some of my old tricks. He's clutching on to the bottom of the chair, clearly practised in the no-touching rule. I bring myself up from the floor between his legs, where I've been letting my hands explore the fabric of his jeans, and perch myself on his lap and lay back so my head is resting on his shoulder. "You can touch," I whisper.

Lincoln doesn't hesitate. His hands are on my thighs, running up the insides of them, stopping _just short_, then holding on to my hips. I grind myself down on to him and rotate my hips just so, keeping to the beat of the music – Reptile, by Nine Inch Nails, of _all_ the things to do a lap dance to – and Lincoln's thumbs slip under the waist band of my leggings, and draw in to the middle. I stand, and turn to face him, this time putting a leg either side of his, and sit on his lap facing him. I drop my head and suck a mark on to his neck, and I hear him hiss in what sounds to be pleasure and pain. One hand has slipped inside his shirt to fondle his broad chest and toy with his nipples. My hands join forces at Lincoln's belt, and I undo the buckle and his button and zipper.

I continue to roll my hips in time with the music, and Linc's hands grab on to my ass, and he slips forward in his seat, pushing me further up in to his lap, and he holds my hips down as he pushes his up in to me. I can feel his erect member straining against the denim of his jeans, and I deliberately rub myself against it. He lets out a moan as I do so, and his eyes lock with mine as I draw back from him, and he pulls me down in to a hungry kiss. He pushes himself up into me again, and before I know it, he's lifted me up, and is putting me down on his bed, climbing on top of me. His hands are still on my ass, and he pushes in to me again, his tongue now pushing inside my mouth, teeth scraping against my lips, and I let out a stuttering breath in to his mouth. His hands fumble at the waistband of my leggings, and I feel them slip off easily, and he tosses them aside, little regard for where they land. He pulls away from me, panting, eyes burning in to mine, and I hear a tearing sound as he rips off my panties. His hold on my hips is hard and strong, and I couldn't move if I wanted to.

I bring my hands up to grope at his built body again, and I return the favor by ripping open the buttons on his shirt. He smirks. I push the fabric of the shirt over his back and dig my nails in to his back, dragging them up then down before I grasp on to the waistband of his jeans. I feel him lift his hips, and I slip his jeans down, feeling his cock spring free against my stomach as his boxers move down too. He moans again as I push up and trap his manhood between us. He fists a hand in my hair and kisses me roughly, moaning every time I rub myself against his erection. His other hand presses my shoulder in to the bed, and he pins me down with his hips. I can't move of my own accord as Linc's legs nudge my legs wider apart, and he slips down. I feel his cock slip down against me, and he grinds himself down on to me a couple more times. Like he's reminding me who has the power here. Not that I am battling at all. But for some reason, I do it anyway. I struggle against his hold, and he just pins me down harder. I bite my lip as he pulls away from me again, and he stills for a moment. Then I feel him, pressing against me, and my body allows him in, the sheer pleasure of it mostly overriding the burn. Linc never once takes his eyes off mine. He wants me to know who has the power. He meets a little playful resistance, but he moans in pleasure at that. He pulls out and pushes back in, moaning wantonly at the sensation, and I struggle against him again, and he pushes me down again, and he actually smirks, and thrusts himself in to me. He knows I don't want him to stop.

Linc starts up a rhythm, pulling most of the way out and pushing in balls deep, again and again, and one arm flies out and he grips on to the head of the bed, pausing for a moment to retain himself. Perhaps it's been a while for him too.

I shift, and he forces himself down on me, pushing my legs wider apart. His spare hand holds on to my ass again, and he starts pushing himself in and out of me again, building up the pace, and my head lolls to the side, and I push down on to him, and he moans again, and I push down to meet him on every stroke, and Linc's breathing increases, and he drops his head down next to me, using the leverage from the headboard to get himself deeper, to fuck me harder, and I can feel myself building up, the heat pooling deep, and I finally utter a moan, and at the sound, Linc speeds up his pace, the sensation of him pounding in to me, pulling most of the way out, then pushing back in again, and maintaining a constant, massaging pressure on my clit, and I wrap my legs around him, pulling him in deeper for one, two, three, and my legs tighten around him, trying to keep him in, as deep as possible as I climax, and Linc moans, and I hear a litany of swear words come from him, but I can't pick out anything in particular, and my climax continues throughout his, and a good few seconds after he finishes, slowing his pace down to a few short, sharp thrusts, and he finally collapses on top of me, and I can say for sure, there is no comparison.

The only thing I have in my pleasure clouded mind is that I really, really hope there is a round two in store for me with Linc The Sink.


End file.
